


Those That Remain: A Tale of the Fall of Gondolin

by Undomiel5



Series: The Forgotten Princess [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fall of Gondolin, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 04:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undomiel5/pseuds/Undomiel5
Summary: In 510 of the First Age on the first day of summer, Morgoth assisted by treachery attacked Gondolin. As history tells, the city fell with great slaughter on both sides. Some elves managed to escape through Idril’s Secret Way. Yet, many did not make it out. Do not they deserve to have their story told, too?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. All familiar story lines and characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. Only original characters and the additions to the plot of the Fall of Gondolin belong to me.
> 
> Note: the Sindarin names of the characters are used instead of their names in Quenya (e.g., Laurefindil vs. Glorfindel) for ease of reading.

F.A. 496  
Late March  
Gondolin

The hour was mid-morning. The sun shone brightly, and there were only a few clouds in the sky. The weather was warm but pleasant. The inhabitants of Gondolin moved about in the city’s streets attending to their work, uncomprehending the great change that about to come to their city.

Near the palace of Turgon, king of Gondolin, and the King’s Square stood the great houses of the Twelve Houses of the Gondolindrim and their lords. Slightly further south was a house that was hung with two great banners bearing a rayed sun. This was the dwelling place of the House of the Golden Flower. It was led by Glorfindel, its Lord, and Gloredhel, its Lord’s sister and his second-in-command. Behind this magnificent house stood a courtyard bordered by a stone wall and tall shrubs. This was the training ground for many of that house.

Today a great number of House of the Golden Flower, along with a few elves dressed in blue and silver from the House of the Fountain, were gathered behind the great house standing around the edge of the courtyard or sitting on the stone wall. These elves were here to watch a show as they viewed it. Moving quickly around and around in the center of the courtyard were two elves both with golden hair and remarkably similar appearances. These two elves were Glorfindel and Gloredhel. They had decided to have a sparring match before they went to attend to the day’s business. The other elves had come to watch and to learn; they always found these matches interesting to watch because both elves were highly skilled and mainly because Glorfindel and Gloredhel were twins in fact. The two were remarkably similar in mind, frequently finishing each other’s sentences. When sparring with each other it was very rare that one of the twins beat the other, the matches usually ending in draws, because they both knew the other’s moves so well that it was hard for one to get the advantage.

The sparring match was evidently a friendly one. There were smiles on the faces of both the combatants, and there were frequent laughs and light-hearted comments from those watching. Both twins were dressed in leather armor with a coat of chain mail. The lady carried two dual swords, while Glorfindel carried a shield and a larger, one-handed sword. The match had been going on for some little time, though neither was tired, when a shouting voice was heard and a small form pushed its way through the crowd.

“My lord … lady.” The voice panted. An elven lad, one of the king’s pages, appeared, pushing his way to the front of the circle. “Voronwë … man … Ecthelion … king … council.”

The two elves broke off their bout at the first shouts. They looked at each other curiously; the disjointed words were only enough to make them confused.

“Take a breath, lad!” Glorfindel said as the panting boy who had run hard all the way from the palace stopped in front of them.

The boy leaned over his hands on his knees for a few moments before he could catch his breath enough to tell his message. After a minute, he took a deep breath and straightened up. “Lord Voronwë has returned with one of the secondborn. Ecthelion is leading them to the king who has summoned all the lords to a council to hear the news.”

“Very well,” Glorfindel replied. “We will come immediately.”

The boy ran off to return to the palace, while an esquire came forward to relieve Glorfindel of his shield decorated with the emblem of his house.

“It sounds like we most go in haste.” Gloredhel said to her brother. “We will not even have time to change out of our armor.” The crowd in the courtyard, seeing that the fight was over, started to disperse.

“The king will not be unhappy this once.” Her brother replied.

They immediately made their way out of the courtyard around the side of the house which looked out towards the Fountains of the South. They turned left and went up the Way of Running Waters toward the King’s Square. The twins were in a hurry, yet they did not run. As they entered the Square they turned to the right to approach the Palace.

Before the massive white doors of the Royal Place of Gondolin, at the top of a long set of steps, stood Turgon, King of Gondolin and now High King of the Noldor, after the death of his brother Fingon over twenty years previously at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. On Turgon’s right stood Idril his daughter, her golden hair shining in the sun, with Maeglin, his dark eyed sister-son on his left. On the steps below the king stood Galdor, the lord of the House of the Tree, Duilin, lord of the House of Swallow with his great bow and quiver upon his back, and Penlod the tall who towered over his fellow elf-lords. Glorfindel and Gloredhel moved to join them.

“Is there any idea of whom this man is that Voronwë brings to us?” Gloredhel asked.

“The man says that he is Tuor son of Huor.” Galdor replied, tapping his fingers in a slow pattern on his left leg. “He says that he brings a message from Ulmo, and Ecthelion recognized that he wears the amour that the King left in Vinyamar.”

“So it begins that which has been written,” said Glorfindel in a low voice to his sister.

But there was time to talk no more, for Ecthelion, carrying his crystal studded-shield and his diamond-tipped helmet, Voronwë, and the guest were seen moving forward past the Tower of Turgon toward the steps of the Palace. At the same moment Rog, the scarred blacksmith who led the House of the Hammer of Wrath, and Egalmoth, his blue mantle shimmering in the sun, joined them. Now all of the Lords of the Houses of the Gondolindrim were present. They moved up in a half circle to join Turgon.

Gloredhel paid little attention to the first words of greeting between the King and Tuor but studied the new arrival carefully. He was tall and strong with a fair face, golden hair, and a noble bearing. Both the twins could see the resemblance between Tuor and his father Huor who they had both fought with at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears twenty-four years before.

As Tuor began to speak Ulmo’s message, Gloredhel split her attention between watching Tuor and watching Turgon. First, Tuor spoke that Turgon should assemble his fighting men and attack Morgoth. This Turgon refused to do. Seeing this Tuor spoke again that, following Ulmo’s counsel, Turgon should take his men, abandon Gondolin, go down the river Sirion, and build boats so that the elves could seek the way West back to Aman. This also the king refused to do.

Gloredhel looked at her brother and he at her. They had great faith in the wisdom of their king, but at the same time they thought it extremely unwise to refuse the council of the Valar without further consideration. She looked back down the steps at Tuor and Voronwë. Voronwë was weeping, and Tuor looked like the shield on his back had gained much weight, for his head was bowed.

The king indicated then that the meeting was over. Tuor and Voronwë left the palace steps heading toward the great fountain. Gloredhel meet Ecthelion’s eyes and smiled a greeting at her adopted brother. All the other lords then started to disperse. Ecthelion went to return to the Great Gate, while Idril and Maeglin returned into the palace. The twins started to make their way down the palace steps to return to their dwelling but as one paused part way down and turned back. Turgon was still standing at the top looking out over the city, seemingly lost in thought.

“My king,” Glorfindel began, “are you sure that it is wise…”

“…to refuse Ulmo’s counsel without further consideration.” Gloredhel ended. Often the twins would speak as one, one beginning, the other ending.

Wearily, Turgon bowed his head. “Leave me, cousins. Not even by you would I be questioned today.” He motioned them away.

The twins bowed and made their way back down the steps. Disagree they most certainly did with Turgon’s decision, but it was not right to push the issue in public. They could seek him out later if they chose and discuss it then.

Tuor and Voronwë had paused a little way from the palace when they had seen that Glorfindel and Gloredhel had remained behind. As the twins reached the bottom of the steps Voronwë caught her eye with a questioning look. Gloredhel shook her head, discerning correctly what Voronwë was asking. The twins then headed back down the Way of Running Waters toward their own dwelling.

Tuor watched them go. He had seen the look that had passed between Voronwë and the unknown elf-lady with hair the color of spun gold, and he wondered what had occurred, what message had passed between them in silent speech.

“Who are they?” He asked his companion quietly.

“Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, and Gloredhel his sister.” Voronwë replied. “They are the children of one of Finwe’s daughters and thus cousins of the High King. Turgon counts them as two of his chief councilors and probably the most trusted save for his sister-son. If the king’s mind could have been changed by anyone, the twins would have been able to. Yet, they too have failed.”

Tuor nodded, and they continued on their way toward the Great Fountain. The waters of that fountain were still beautiful and clear, unsullied for now by the blood of elves and orcs. Its water sparkled in the sunlight as it was thrown over one-hundred feet into the air. Trees, full of beautiful song-birds, surrounded the fountain.

Meanwhile, Gloredhel and Glorfindel, the Golden Twins, made their way from the King’s Square back towards their own dwelling. At its entrance, they paused in the building’s shadow and spoke together in quiet voices.

“I fear our king had made a dreadful error in rejecting the words of Ulmo. Even if Turgon wishes to continue his isolationist policies and not fight, surely we could at least make our way to the Sea and not stay here like caged fowl.” Gloredhel said.

“My thoughts mirror yours, my sister,” Glorfindel said, his brow furrowed and his usually bright eyes dark with concern, “yet there is nothing that can be done for the moment. The king refuses to listen, even to us. It will only anger the king if we question him. Perhaps in a few days or a week, we can bring the matter up again.”

“I fear for Gondolin. We disobey Ulmo by rejecting his council. What will become of us?” Gloredhel replied, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms as if to rid herself of a chill.

“None but the One can know all paths.” Glorfindel replied, touching his sister’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We can do nothing to change events for the moment, so we must not worry overmuch for what tomorrow holds.”

“You’re right as usual, brother,” Gloredhel said with a small smile. She glanced up at the sun, which had now risen until it was almost directly above the city. “It is past high noon. I told Thorondor I would come today to speak with him. I should go before the hour grows later.”

“And I have training drills to run with the young ones.” Glorfindel said. “Will you return by supper?”

“I plan to unless my council with Thorondor runs long.” Gloredhel replied. She moved forward to kiss her brother’s cheek, and then the siblings parted, each to attend to his or her own tasks.

Gloredhel returned late in the evening, barely on time for supper. Her council with Thorondor had been helpful, yet she had found no peace from her foreboding feelings in the long discussion with the old eagle.

At the dinner table she finds not only her twin but also Ecthelion, free of his duty at the Great Gate for a short time. When all are seated at the table and the food has been served, Glorfindel speaks, “Gondolin has two new inhabitants for the foreseeable future.”

Gloredhel raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue, wondering what had occurred in her relatively short absence.

“Turgon has invited Tuor to stay and enjoy the hospitality of Gondolin. Tuor has accepted.”

And so, as would be shown in time, the seeds of Gondolin’s destruction continued to be sown.


End file.
